


Specter's Birth

by Bloody_Vixen



Series: Trapped in the Sewers [6]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Disturbing Themes, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-04 01:49:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16337426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloody_Vixen/pseuds/Bloody_Vixen
Summary: It had been loud in your womb – it was apt that it would just as riotous out of it.You will not love it.This it knows.So it will have to make you.The final chapter of 'Egg Sac' and 'Hush Little Baby'





	Specter's Birth

**Author's Note:**

> So, you will need to read 'Egg Sac' and 'Hush Little Baby' to have some background, but I believe this can stand alone.

The thing crawls to you.

“Look, our child {y/n}.” It crooned, long fingers tapping the thing’s head.

The thing looked different each day. When the egg cracked and hatched, shadow spewed forth, limbless and malformed. You had hoped the abomination had been aborted, that your mortality cursed the wretched thing before it could be born.

Unsurprisingly, the thing formed, grasping and shrieking before settling in the arms of your captor.

Like a babe in the arms of their father.

“Perfect.”

* * *

You never held it.

It never pressed you, content that you had fulfilled the task it forced upon you. The thing does not weep like a human child, only shrieks and chitters when they felt neglected. At the first sound of displeasure, you’d hear it’s father sweep forth from whence it lurked, cooing and singing to it until the thing cease and slumbers.

It was like watching a mockery.

It would cradle it, its many limbs holding and touching the rot that cracked forth. It watched as the shadows spins and curls; at times a spider like it, another time, a pair of soothing lights and sometimes like the clown, miniature and laughter.

It left you alone, save when to feed you and clean the wounds around your cunt.

The shadow tried once to come close to you but it sensed your apathy and stayed away. So you are ignored and that’s good. It found a companion, an offspring and that’s good.

Sadly, it does not last long.

Eventually the food began to run out and for the first time, since the birth, it decided to go and hunt. The thing slept soundly, even as it, clown and tall, pats you gently on your head, tucking the blanket around your useless legs.

“Keep watch, little one.”

There was silence and you breathed, trying to imagine what the sky was like when you heard it.

It started as a sniffle, like a human baby, so sweet and innocent, that an old buried instinct surged up. Your body twitched as the sniffle hitched and heaved then cracked open, bawling loudly.

Your leg jerked forward, your body almost working when your eyes stared down on the abomination.

The thing is now a child, fleshed and soft. Eyes, so much like yours, widened and watered, five grubby fingers reaching out to you; like it was supposed to be yours.

It bawled and bawled, sounding so young, so innocent, so _human_ , you nearly succumbed.

But that _noise._

It had been loud in your womb – it would be apt that it would just as riotous out of it.

Your body slumps as you drew yourself inwards.

You had deafened your ears before, when the thing’s heartbeat echoed within, where you can’t escape.

You still can’t, but you can crawl away and so you did.

Arms once weak, strengthened as you drag yourself away. The cries grew louder in a way that would be heart-breaking. But its progenitor had done you a favour for making you listen to all those children – the food – beg and scream until all they are left as floating parts above you.

You had listened to a poor girl, praying and calling out for her father as it devours her stomach. Watched as a boy, that could barely toddle, try to run as sharp, black claws sink into his skull. Teenagers, countless of them, gibbering, terrified wrecks as they are forced to fight nightmares comes true.

You were serenaded by the death rattle of lives brutally cut short.

Every day.

What is a babe – one so cursed - would hope to entice?

_Your love?_

You were robbed of all comfort to give any to another.

So you stayed away.

* * *

A part of you wondered if the punishment would be severe.

That speck of survival instinct demanded you return and cradle the filth because it would be most unhappy to find the offspring it so loved wailing away, unwanted.

You think of cracked bones and wounded flesh but the fact was: you don’t care.

You crawled away into a corner of the cistern and stared at the abomination, now hiccoughing amidst its bawls.

At times high-pitched, then raspy, then gasping as though hoping a change of tune would entice you. Instead you picked at a broken doll, plucking its dirty red hair, imagining it was your captor’s limbs.

So focused you are, that you didn’t hear them at first.

* * *

Once, long ago, you dreamt of escape. There were a few who fought back and that hope, beaten as it were, would burn fiercely as they struck it with the ferocity of one who did not want to die.

Inevitably, they all fail.

So when she came – her hair of fire – you didn’t move, being somewhat glad that the wailing had stopped.

It took you a moment to realize it was not a teenager that’s standing in front of you but an adult.

A female adult.

“Audra?” she gasped and you couldn’t help but blink back. You had no idea who Audra is…and wondered if this was another (punishment) game.

You don’t answer (because you hope it will finally end you).

The woman blinked as she stepped forward, aiming a…

A slingshot? _Really?_

You must have said it out loud, for the woman startled and shoots -

_THWAP_

You had been ready but you still yelped as the stone slammed itself against your forehead.

Blood trickled, then sprays all over your face.

The woman screams, high pitched and horrified as shadows, long and cold, slashed and snapped the arm wielding the slingshot.

_Wait._

A guttural shriek comes from around the cistern, layered like an angry baby.

_Why isn’t it turning back?_

You see her face contort with fear and anger as she twists and then strikes the dark limb with her feet. The thing recoiled and slithered as the woman runs off, cradling her broken arm. Babyish cries seem to shake the area even as its victim scampered off, her mouth open, shouting and then…

A group of men rushed in, their footsteps joining the cacophony as they form a human shield around her.

You didn’t notice the shadow morphing back into a tiny babe who wailed at you, its tiny arms reaching out even as you kept staring.

Humans.

Adult humans.

_Escape._

You cry out to them, to the group, “Help me, please, _please!”_ but it was drowned by the sounds of clacking limbs and roars as IT slams down in front of you, claws and teeth bared.

“IT!” you hear one of the man shout as they raised their weapons, one pushing the woman back even as the Spider stomped towards them, no doubt intent on murdering them.

“NO! NO! GO AWAY!” you shout, towards your captor, towards the abomination who clung to you.

Gunshots, bats and bones boomed all around you as you try to will your useless legs to move. Cold, shadowy limbs pull you down but you hiss, your hands tried to pry them off. You can taste it, freedom for never before had It face a group, one who are strong and exude nothing but strength.

You had known It never hunted groups – a coward as it was fearsome – its prey were often alone; easier to destroy.

And to your pleasure you watched as one them did something you had only dreamed off: with one swing one of the men snapped of its leg.

The howl that came from it would have made any other human piss their pants – but you were euphoric.

The spider stumbled from shock – you blamed your elation on what happened next.

You shouldn’t have turned your back.

(You’d rather not know if you did)

* * *

_You will not love it._

_This it knows._

_So it will have to make you._

* * *

One moment you watched as your rapist, captor and child murderer fell into fear and panic, flinging limbs as it tried to comprehend what had just occurred.

The darkness bleeds into your sight and you feel life burning through your limbs.

You stood, your screams drowned as foul life coursed down your throat and you hear it.

It was but a split second but you knew – you knew exactly what was controlling you. With speed inhuman, your body dashed across the cistern and your hands (limp wristed and bruised), bore through flesh and bone.

“EDDIE!”

Eddie’s eyes widened, his lips formed an ‘O’ before your traitorous hand reeled back and his body fell down in a heap. A familiar anguished wail followed and you howl – fearRAGE – as your body twists to the sound. Eyes dark and grieving leapt at you and you wanted him to win, to let him sink the knife into your chest because you don’t want this and you’re sorry, sorry, _sorry_ but your hand clamped down around the man’s head and you snap.

_“RICHIE!”_

Eddie, Richie – they had names. _They had names._

_Seven is Strong._

_Five Alive._

_Three is Trinity_

_Two Survives._

_One however…gone forever._

The remaining three scampered, clinging to each other and you knew.

The katet is no more.

Mercifully It finished off the rest. The woman went down first, her eyes bulged as its foot slammed straight through her belly. The next, who whispered to her – his murmur louder than any screams - fell next; his head sliced clean off his shoulder.

The last – his eyes beautiful blue didn’t even shake and you admired that. He didn’t cower even as the spider morphed into a small boy, clad in yellow and blood.

“Buhbye, little buddy.”

You forget how it felt like to endure despair; even though you’ve heard the same choked noise, the same crowing laughter over and over.

No tears, however.

Your body had run out.

* * *

It had won. You knew it had won.

The child released you, snapping your strings as you curl up on the ground, knowing deep down that that was it.

You had been told of it, knew of it but there was always that spark of hope. Hope of escape, no matter how dim your prospects were – but as soon as those blue eyes dimmed – you knew.

_You’re mine forever, {y/n}._

The numbness allowed it to sink in and you snuffed it out, that last bit of hope, as It carried you back, this time the thing (your child) coiled around your body, knowing you will not push it away.

* * *

And so the terror that should have ended continued.

For in Derry, every 27 years it is said that children would go missing six times the national average, yet though posters and searches were made they were never found again.

The adults seemed to not care, even as their own are dragged away – some say by a creature masquerading as a jovial clown, offering balloons that never stopped floating, another whispered of a shadowy magician who’d delight all with his wicked tricks. Once they hooked you in, then they reveal their forms and devour you until not even your name is remembered.

These warnings are scoffed, for how did they know of these monsters, if their victims never came back?

They don’t remember the answer – none of them do; for if they did, they’d know of the other.

But they don’t – not of the woman whose face bore defeat, who would whisper warnings.

They never allowed any of them too.


End file.
